He tossed Mr. Spines roughly to the ground. Then he stood, towering above them with his meaty fists on his hips.
“As for your two idiot servants,” he glanced at Sariel and Artemis with a look of disgust. “Lilith and Asmoday would love a chance to visit with them a while. Maybe even sit down and have a meal together. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Artemis whimpered with fright, eliciting a chorus of grating laughter from the throng of Groundlings.
Turning to his Groundling officer, Scruggs barked, “Lieutenant, arrange for departure to the Woodbine immediately. I want that boy in our possession within the hour.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
STORM
Edward pressed the sequence of buttons and switches that turned on Mr. Spines’s machine. He ignored Sariel’s shouts of protest as he flipped the final switch, marked ENGAGE.
Suddenly, a loud humming noise filled the air. Edward took a couple of steps backward, staring at the spinning dials. He heard the sudden whine of hidden engines reverberating all around him.
Sariel screamed.
There was a shower of sparks and a crackle of ozone. The room suddenly faded away and Edward heard the panicked shouts of Sariel and Artemis. And then, the next thing he knew, he was standing in total darkness in the middle of a thunderstorm.
Where am I?Icy drops quickly permeated his sweater and plastered his hair to his forehead. He shivered and tried to make sense of where he was. He could hardly see anything at all.
Is this the place you go when you die? Edward wondered. It certainly wasn’t like anything he’d ever expected. He strained to see through the curtains of rain and darkness.
A bright flash of lightning suddenly illuminated his surroundings. In that split second he observed that he stood on a muddy plateau with a few scraggly oaks surrounding it.
It was a quick glimpse, but he knew with overwhelming certainty that he was indeed somewhereelse. Somewhere that was nowhere near Bunker Hill, Los Angeles, Oregon, or even the United States.
He had the sudden feeling of déjà vu, as if something deep inside him recognized the place even though he’d never been there before. And in a strange way, it seemed that his new surroundings felt more real than any of the places he’d ever lived. It was hard to explain, but it was like the mud was muddier and the rain felt wetter. It was as though everything his senses had perceived before that moment was an imperfect reflection of where he now found himself.
He took a few cautious steps forward, hoping that another flash of lightning would occur so he could see the edge of the plateau. He couldn’t tell if he was on top of a mountain or just a few feet off the ground. He felt his way carefully through the darkness with his arms extended, hoping that he wouldn’t trip.
BOOM!A peal of thunder crackled through the air. Then, in a sudden, panic-filled moment, Edward felt the ground beneath his feet start to crumble.
With a surge of fear he realized that he’d reached the edge of the plateau much sooner than he’d anticipated! He toppled backward as the damp earth gave way beneath his feet. In a rush of water, dirt, and stone, he cascaded down the sides of what he realized now was a very high mountain. What he hadn’t known was that the plateau he’d been standing on was actually the very top of a needle-like spire and could be seen from miles away. The heavy rain had created a river that flowed down its steep sides and Edward was tossed and carried helplessly forward like a leaf in a stream.
He had no time to think. His heart pounded with fear as he grabbed desperately for anything that might slow his fall. But nothing was anchored in the raging flow of debris.
He choked on the mud and silt that filled his mouth and nostrils. His body skidded and twisted down the mountain with tremendous speed. He sputtered and gasped for air as he fell, terrified at what would happen when he hit bottom. It seemed like he’d been falling for hours when suddenly he had the sickening sensation of weightlessness. Air rushed around him as Edward shot over the edge of the muddy waterfall.
SPLASH!He submerged beneath the surface of a raging river. The icy water engulfed him and he felt himself being dragged down to the dark and murky depths. Panic gripped him as he flailed beneath the water. He didn’t know how to swim! As he felt the air slip from his lungs, a single thought resounded in his terrified brain:
What happens if you die in the Afterlife?
Chapter Twenty-Three
CATCH OF THE DAY
At the banks of the river, a faun was fishing. He didn’t mind the rain that drenched his tweed hat and formed large puddles around his cloven hooves. He whistled softly to himself, thinking how much the weather reminded him of a place where he’d lived long ago.
But for Jack the faun, England was nothing but a distant memory now.
He reached into his tackle box and pulled out an unusual lure. He smiled as he removed the glowing, clockwork device.
“This should definitely do the trick,” he said quietly, winding his fishing line around the lure.
With an expert flick of his wrist, Jack sent the wriggling lure sailing through the air, where it splashed into the rushing water. Jack rotated the reel on his fishing pole a few times, allowing the mechanical lure to drift in the current and settle near the bottom.
“Now,” he muttered. “Let’s see if we can’t get some nice fish for supper.”
It wasn’t but a few seconds later when he felt a sudden, heavy pull on the end of his line. With a whoop of excitement, the faun cranked the reel on his pole. Whatever he had caught was huge! It was bigger than anything he’d ever caught in the river before. A monster! he thought happily.
He grunted as he strained to pull his catch to shore. As it drew closer, Jack let out a cry of amazement. It wasn’t a fish at all.
It was a person!
“Tollers!” he shouted. “Come quickly!”
High up on the bank was a cozy inn surrounded by towering pine trees. A green door banged open and a very short man with large, furry feet emerged, huffing and puffing as he ran down the muddy slope to where Jack was standing.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I seem to have caught . . . someone,” Jack cried, rushing down to the edge of the water. “Help me get him to shore.”
It required a lot of effort for the small creatures to bring the tall, waterlogged boy to the bank. By the time they had him propped between them on the shore, the heavy rain had stopped. As a large, yellow moon crept out from behind a cloud, they got their first look at the big, ebony wings that clung to Edward’s wet shoulders.
“By the mane,” Jack muttered. “He looks like a Guardian!”
They turned the unconscious boy on his stomach and Tollers set to work. He pushed his gnarled little hands deep into boy’s back, trying to expel the river water that had filled his lungs. After a few tense moments, Edward suddenly coughed, spewing water onto the muddy ground beside him. He rolled onto his side and drew deep, shuddering breaths of the cool air.
“Let’s get him inside,” Jack said.
Edward was dimly aware of a pair of beings placing his arms around their shoulders as they half-carried, half-dragged him to the cozy inn by the riverbank.
A concerned murmur rose from the patrons as Jack and Tollers entered the warmly lit common room, carrying a groggy Edward between them.
“Make way!” Jack bellowed, scattering the guests before him as he and Tollers dragged Edward to the blazing hearth. After propping him up next to the fire, he called, “Bridgette! Fetch some Bippleberry brandy!”
A pretty girl with curly red hair appeared moments later, carrying a tray with a rather dusty bottle and a small glass. As she delivered it to Jack, she gazed down at Edward, who had his eyes closed and was slumped against the side of the fireplace. His face was very pale.
“Is he going to be all right, Uncle?” she asked worriedly.
Jack uncorked the bottle and poured a small amount of purple liquid into the glass. “I believe so,” he said as he raised the liquid to Edward’s l
ips.
The hot liquid immediately sent Edward into a coughing fit, but soon he felt warmth spread throughout his body. Feeling revived, he opened his eyes and got his first clear look at his rescuers.
Seeing the friendly, concerned face of a faun staring at him was certainly a surprise. He stared back at him with his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
“I think he’s going to be fine,” Jack said with a relieved smile.
“Wh-where am I?” Edward asked weakly.
“You’re in the Dancing Faun, the best pub south of the Seven Bridges Road,” Jack said cheerfully. He studied Edward curiously. “You’re lucky I was fishing. Why on Earth did you decide to enter by the river? You should have come in by the main entrance. Not really the best weather for a swim, I should think.”
Edward stared back at him, confused. He had no idea what he was talking about.
The faun reached inside the soggy pocket of his tweed coat and removed a small clay pipe. He lit it and gazed at Edward’s massive black wings. “How strange,” he mumbled.
“Wh-what?” Edward asked.
“That you should choose to appear as a
Guardian. When most mortals arrive in the
Woodbine they resemble other things.”
So, I really am in the Woodbine, Edward thought excitedly. Mr. Spines’s machine worked! I’m actually in the Afterlife! He could hardly believe it.
“I d-don’t understand. Wh-what do you
mean I ‘chose’ to resemble a Guardian?” he
asked.
Jack smiled and said, “When a mortal arrives in the Woodbine, he takes on the appearance of his ‘inner’ person. The way a person looked on Earth doesn’t always match the appearance that fits him best. Up here, a person looks like what he’s always wantedto be.”
“Hence my appearance.” He indicated himself with a sweeping gesture. “And theirs, too.” Jack pointed to the other patrons of the cozy inn. Edward gaped at the metal unicorns with Swiss-army-knife horns that sat in one corner drinking beer. They seemed to be in an argument about something.
Suddenly, the largest one slammed his silver hoof on the table and shouted, “That wasn’t the way it was at all! The third one was coming at me at four o’clock. I fired my guns six times and shot off his left rudder. I know what I saw!”
Edward glanced past them to the biggest praying mantis he had ever seen. The gigantic, pale green insect was at least six feet tall and wore silken, Chinese robes. It met Edward’s stare and craned its long neck forward to get a better look at him.
Edward glanced away self-consciously. At a nearby table was a group of little men with large furry feet. They smoked their pipes, commenting quietly on Edward’s unexpected arrival. And beside them was a medium-sized giant. Edward noticed that he was sleeping with his big head resting on a platter of fish and chips.
It was all too strange to believe.
The faun interrupted his thoughts, pointing at Edward’s wings with the stem of his pipe. “You look like a Guardian, which is a very unusual choice,” he said, grinning. “Very creative. I congratulate you on your innovation.”
“Oh, but I-I didn’t ch-choose this. Muh-my wings just grew y-yesterday, back on Earth. I’m actually here t-to find someone,” Edward said, fighting to keep the stutter out of his voice. “I c-came here so that I could find my mother,” he blurted eagerly.
The entire pub fell silent. Now it was the faun’s turn to look astonished. He leaned back on the wooden bench with his hands on his knees, staring at Edward as if he’d just said something impossible. Then after a moment, he helped Edward to his feet, saying in a too-loud voice, “Yes, yes, what you need is a good night’s sleep.” He looked at the other patrons in the inn and winked. “Fell in the river, you know. Quite disoriented.”
This explanation seemed to satisfy the others in the pub and the clatter of cutlery and murmured conversation soon recommenced. Jack noticed Edward’s confused expression and whispered, “We’ll talk upstairs.”
Edward had no idea why what he’d said provoked such a reaction, but he followed the faun up a set of sturdy oak stairs to a hallway filled with doors. Jack motioned for Bridgette and Tollers to follow.
Inside of one of the cozy rooms, Edward sat down on the edge of a soft bed covered with patchwork quilts. A fire was crackling in the fireplace and there was a basket of sweet bread and fruit displayed on a small table. Tollers and Bridgette slipped through the doorway as Jack shut and locked the door behind them. Then the faun strode over to a stuffed chair beside Edward and sat down.
“Now then,” Jack said quietly. “Some proper introductions are in order.” He indicated the little man with the large, furry feet. “This is Tollers: He was the one who helped rescue you.”
Edward nodded and the little man smiled back. The faun continued, “I’m Jack, and this is my niece, Bridgette.”
Edward glanced up at the pretty girl. He’d always felt uncomfortable around girls his own age. At the Foundry, the girls made him feel self-conscious because of his gangly height and speech impediment. Now that he had wings, he probably looked even more ridiculous. He edged his big wings behind his back, trying to hide them from view. Feeling afraid that he might stutter if he tried too elaborate an introduction, he simply muttered, “I’m Edward,” and glanced downward, turning bright crimson.
Jack smiled and placed his pipe back in his pocket. Then, leaning forward, he said, “Now, Edward, if you don’t mind, I think we’d all like to know a little bit more about you. Please tell your story from the beginning and leave nothing out.”
Edward felt the eyes of everyone in the room staring at him as the faun added, “Now then, I believe you said that you sprouted wings only yesterday?”
Edward nodded, wishing that he didn’t have to speak. But, with three expectant faces turned toward him, it seemed that he had no choice but to do as Jack asked.
He sighed. And then, hoping his stutter wouldn’t embarrass him too much, he began to tell them all about the series of events that had led him to the Woodbine.
Chapter Twenty-Four
THE BLUE LADY
Edward told them about his mother’s death, his life at the Foundry, his meeting Mr. Spines, and escaping Whiplash Scruggs. There were many gasps of astonishment as he mentioned the run-in with Henry and Lilith. And by the time he finished his story, several hours had passed.
Jack and Tollers shared a look as Edward wrapped up his tale. Turning back to Edward, the faun said, “Please excuse Tollers and me for a few moments. I’m afraid your tale has given us some rather, ah, important matters to discuss.”
Then Jack and Tollers walked over to the corner of the room and began talking rapidly in low, secretive voices.
Bridgette noticed and rolled her eyes. Grinning, she turned back to Edward and said, “My uncle and Tollers are constantly doing research on the Guardians and the Jackal. When they were mortals on Earth they were professors. Your story’s really got them excited. It’s really rare for a mortal, especially one with such beautiful wings, to come to the Woodbine.”
Then she smiled at him in such a warm and dazzling way that Edward forgot about how silly he thought his wings looked.
Bridgette continued, saying, “I think you were very brave doing what you did, facing those Groundlings. If I’d run into Asmoday and Lilith, I think I probably would have fainted.”
Edward chuckled. “I really had no idea what I was doing. I was able to fight them somehow. It happened without my even trying.” He didn’t realize it, but there was something so comforting about the way Bridgette was talking to him that he didn’t stutter once.
Jack and Tollers’s urgent discussion continued, escalating into an argument. Bridgette didn’t seem bothered, so Edward continued the conversation with her, saying, “So what were some of the other people downstairs? Back when they were on Earth, I mean.”
Bridgette grinned hugely. “You’ll never guess. The unicorns were soldiers in the Great War. They fought wi
th the Allies in France.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Some of them aren’t very nice. Uncle Jack thinks that one or two of them might be agents of the Jackal sent to spy on the Inn, but I really don’t think so.” She glanced over at her uncle, who was so absorbed in his conversation he hadn’t heard.
She counted off each of the remaining patrons on her fingers. “The mantis was a Chinese philosopher and she’s over a thousand years old. She’s really nice and loves to play dominoes. The little men with the furry feet were students of Tollers when he was a professor. And as for the giant . . .” Her eyes twinkled as she grinned down at Edward. “You’ll never guess what he used to be.”
“What was he?” Edward asked, feeling curious about the hulking man he’d seen snoring in the corner.
“He was a librarian! He said he was really short and skinny and wore glasses!” She laughed and the sound was so wonderfully pretty and contagious that Edward found himself laughing, too.
Jack and Tollers finally finished their discussion and turned back to Edward, their faces alight with excitement.
“Edward, Tollers and I think your arrival is very auspicious, very auspicious indeed! We have a lot of research to do back at my house. Once we consult my books, we’ll be able to tell you more about what we know. My wife Joyce loves company, and I’m sure she would love for you to stay with us.”
Edward didn’t know what to say at first. Everything had happened so quickly that he’d never even considered where he would stay once he’d arrived in the Woodbine. All he’d been thinking about at the time was getting to his mother. But there was something so wonderful about the new people he’d met. There was something about them that radiated trust, and that was something Edward hadn’t felt for a long time.
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